


Patchwork

by mrvvrench



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, It's not porn, M/M, Pre-Relationship, but i can kindly write that at a later time for you if that's what you're looking for aw yea, don't get the wrong idea, first time fic, first time: sharing a bed, just wanted to write something, mostly just drabble, to be exact
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrvvrench/pseuds/mrvvrench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a cold case, in the cold-ass Midwest, the heater busts in the motel room Wrench and Numbers are staying in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> [Dani](http://dont-pester-lester.tumblr.com) "challenged" me to a "Wrenchers Off" (i guess) and so we decided to see what we could accomplish in about fifty minutes. I decided to use this as time to tackle a prompt from [kavinskysdick](http://kavinskysdick.tumblr.com/) as well. They wanted a first time fic of Wrenchers sharing a bed. I'm more than happy to oblige. 
> 
> This is JUST ONE OF MY MANY TAKES ON WHAT COULD HAVE GONE DOWN. So I may write another take on it eventually. I actually have several headcanons for this one, to be honest. Almost as many as first kiss. Anwyay. Not sure how many chapters? Two or three is my guess. Nothing long. But I had to post tonight and it wasn't going to get fully done tonight so here's the first chapter for you guys. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. And as always my [askbox](http://hitmanhvsbands.tumblr.com/ask) is ALWAYS OPEN FOR PROMPTS AND HEADCANONS. 
> 
> (also really sorry for the robert frost title but come on we're not a real fandom until there's at least 20 fics with 20 different robert frost inspired titles right???)

The shitty motel room in the cold ass North offered no protection from the freezing weather. It hadn’t even gotten as bad as it could be; the winter still had a month left to get especially bitter and attempt to freeze the world and devour it. A fact that Numbers was quite unhappy about, but relatively grateful for. He didn’t particularly want to stick around for severely below zero temperatures with wind chills that could freeze your blood in mere moments.

It was definitely time that he and his partner go on vacation somewhere warm and sunny; somewhere he could sprawl out and enjoy heat washing over his body in waves of comfortable hot air. **Way past due,** he thought to himself as Numbers pulled the blanket a little closer to himself.  
  
Wrench stepped out not long ago to go run down to the corner store to pick up some supplies for the night. Numbers insisted he go with him for nearly ten minutes, but was shot down each and every time he tried to argue his reasoning. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Wrench. Numbers didn’t trust other people. Especially when Wrench couldn’t hear if anyone was sneaking around in the dead of night, looking to mug a perceivably easy target.

The fact that they hadn’t yet caught the guy they were in town for made Numbers uneasy. For some reason, not knowing where this man was made Numbers beyond uncomfortable. To be fair, the weather had made it very difficult to search for more than a few hours at a time, but even then they still had usually at least put a location on their target by now. The small hit man fidgeted with the loose threads of the tattered and worn blanket. How many disgusting scenes had this thing witnessed? His skin crawled as he noticed every potential bodily fluid stain on the patchwork cover.

He had to chill the fuck out and soon.

Wrench finally threw open the motel door with the same loudness he did almost everything else. How it was possible the giant bear of a man could possibly sneak up on someone so quietly when he spent ninety-nine percent of his time slamming shit and stomping around like everyone else was deaf, too, was beyond Numbers. No less, the noise was something he found a deep and disturbing comfort in; security that he would never be willing to admit to Wrench or anyone else. Hell, he really didn’t even want to admit it to himself most nights.

Numbers pushed the blanket a little ways away from himself as if it was offensive and had crawled up on him without his permission. Any little sign of weakness or discomfort could be used and exploited by Wrench to tease him and put him in a foul enough mood to rot plants in his wake. Yet, the undeniable pleasure of Wrench smoothing it over and telling Numbers to calm down and take a joke, his hands loud and cheerful laughter stalling the agitated signing just might be worth the sky rocketing of his blood pressure.

Perhaps the quote he’d heard many times about love was the exact opposite for him; you have to love something before you hate it.

Numbers was pretty damn sure he have to _hate_ something before he _loved_ it; or maybe _someone._

Wrench stomped the snow off of his boots and kicked them off as he set down the groceries he’d bought. He shrugged quickly out his jacket but frowned as went to slide off the horrendous sweater he was wearing. _Is the heater busted?_ he signed to his partner.

 _I think so. I don’t know. It always feels this cold to me,_ Numbers replied, trying to control the shivering in his body that caused his hands to shake.

The frown on Wrench’s face deepened a little. He walked over to the thermostat, completely neglecting the groceries he’d just purchased. At this rate he wouldn’t even have to stow their perishables in the tiny mini-fridge. He flicked the meter with his fingers, the snap sounding loud to Numbers’ ears. Wrench opened up the tiny box and looked and attempted to fiddle with the dial. He shut it and turned back to his partner.

 _Yeah, it’s broken_ he signed to Numbers, watching his eyebrows arch upwards a little. The facial expression seemed to be a mixture of concern over the falling temperature and being completely unamused by _yet another_ shitty hotel room. He supposed by now he should really be used to it.

 _I’ll go down to the front desk and see if anyone’s around_ Numbers sighed and started to get to his feet. The blanket fell around him and onto the bed. It would not serve as enough protection against the cold should there be no one at the front desk. Wrench nodded at him and began to put away the minimal amount of food he’d bought. They were still playing it by ear, but both the hit men estimated the potential of spending weeks here if things kept up the way they were going right now.

Wrench hoped that was _not_ the case. But it wasn’t exactly like they were making progress and it had already nearly been a week so far. The cold cereal, left over take out and cheap, shitty pizza was starting to get to the both of them and the hours spent in the confines of the tiny motel room wasn’t exactly helping them either. If they weren’t arguing, they were stuffing their case files in their own respective faces trying to figure out exactly _what_ they were missing.

Wrench missed the laid back, easy going days they’d been having for a while. The days where he could spare a thought to lazily take in the way Numbers’ hands formed words or the way his expressions hardly ever matched what he was saying but nonetheless pleased Wrench deeply. Watching the way Numbers’ hand would draw up and smooth fingers through the thick, unruly, and beautiful hair made Wrench yearn to do the same. He was overly curious as to how it felt. It looked as though it was coarse but soft, and would leave his hand tingling from where a million little strands would brush the nerve sensitive tips of his fingers.

With a single glance back at his partner, he wondered if his body would feel as cold as Numbers complained to be if he wrapped his own around him. Perhaps he might find out some day. Numbers pushed his arms through the sleeve of his coat and quickly wrapped a scarf around his throat, despite the walk being under a minute. Wrench snickered to himself, ignoring the highly offended glare that shot from the frustrated eyes of his partner.

No.

Wrench bet that Numbers felt much warmer than he seemed. His insides couldn’t possibly be frozen over with ice; not with that much red-hot anger burning all the time.

No less, he wanted to feel it pressed against his own warm chest. He wanted to feel Numbers heart begin to beat quickly, so quickly, the way his partner made Wrench’s heart race. For just a moment, even if it was just a minute or two of the time left in his world. He wanted that.

He _needed_ that. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yeah bless I updated.   
> Next is Silent Vows, Words on Walls, and a few one shots before I post up chapter on of my major project fic.

Numbers braced himself as he opened the door and left the motel room. The wind whipped bitterly around him and caused his cheeks and nose to turn bright pink in near seconds. It chilled him to the bone; and he thought he was cold before. His body wracked with shivers as he hurriedly made his way towards the motel office, wary of any hidden ice.

Numbers ducked into the tiny, barely warmer office building. At least it was sheltered from the wind. God, the winter wind was truly the worst thing in the world.

Numbers shuffled up to the front desk, rubbing his hands together to warm up his stinging fingers. The woman meandered out from the back of the office and up to the front desk.

“How can I help ya?” she asked him in a flat voice. She wasn’t completely unpleasant but it wasn’t exactly like she was ready to help Numbers at any second. Numbers felt irritated enough from the cold and her tone certainly wasn’t going to win his favor.

“I’m pretty sure the heater in our room is buster. Room 102.”

“Oh ya? I wish I could help ya but our maintenance guy has been out sick with the flu for the past two weeks. There’s a few other rooms with broken heaters too. It’s this damn cold spell,” she shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head towards the window as if this was the answer to all life’s problems.

 **If you mean normal Midwestern cold, then sure, yeah it’s a cold spell, bitch,** Numbers thought to himself, grinding his teeth a little.

“Right, so do you have any other rooms open?” he inquired, even though he felt like he already knew the answer to his rather pointless question.

The woman heaved a sigh as if this was the worst thing Numbers could have asked of her. “I don’t think so fella, but I’ll look for ya,” she opened her ledger and began to leaf through the pages lazily. “Just as I thought, nothing open but other broken rooms,” she confirmed as she shut the ledger.

Numbers found it honestly really hard to believe there wasn’t a _single_ room open. How many fucking heaters did this place go through?

“I can get ya some more blankets though,” she gestured to the supply closet and Numbers heaved his own exasperated sigh.

“If that’s the best you can do.” He waited impatiently as she dug out a few tattered patchwork quilts. Of course there wouldn’t be anything better. If they hadn’t already paid for another five days, Numbers would have packed up tonight and driven until he found another place with a working heater.

Maybe he’d demand their money back tomorrow night if she didn’t manage to figure out her own fucking problems.

Numbers accepted the blanket, holding them a little ways away from his body. They smelt musty and he certainly didn’t want that to rub off on his coat. He mumbled a sardonic thanks as he left the office.

And she had the goddamn nerve to look insulted.

Numbers walked swiftly back to their room. The wind seemed even more unforgiving than it had five minutes ago. Jesus, was it really too much to ask for the weather to remain above zero degrees? Really?

He fumbled with the key, the blankets, and his frozen fingers for a minute, trying to keep his face away from the musty things and getting thoroughly frustrated with the door. The key jammed three times before he finally got the damn thing open.

Numbers swore to himself this was the last motel he’d ever stay in. Hotels only from now on.

He knew that was an empty promise.

Without wasting any time, Numbers tossed the blankets away from him as soon as he vaulted inside. Stomping off his shoes, he kicked them off and groaned at how damp his socks had gotten. How had he even gotten snow down his shoes?

Fuck the winter. Really.

Wrench cocked his head and watched his partner’s numb fingers fumble with the buttons on his coat. A teensy urge poked at his mind to go over there and help unbutton them for him. Knowing his luck, Numbers would not take it as a romantic gesture, but more as Wrench acting like his partner was a child. Wrench could just see Numbers slapping his partner’s hands away from him and signing, _I can do it myself! I’m not a fucking kid, asshole._

Well… Wrench supposed he did paint himself into that corner by always making jokes and never taking anything, seriously; except his job.

 _So what did they say?_ Wrench asked instead, once Numbers got his coat off.

 _Maintenance guy is out with the flu,_ Numbers signed back in agitation.

 _Poor dude,_ Wrench frowned a little, even though he really didn’t care. Numbers rolled his eyes. 

_No. Poor me. I’m going to freeze to death tonight,_ Numbers was shivering even harder than when Wrench had come back from the store.

The younger hit man crossed the room and reached into his duffle bag, extracting his favorite warm turtleneck sweater. It was a stripped, two-toned brown thing, made from wool and cotton and was like a portable fucking furnace. Looking it over, Wrench realized the thing would drown Numbers. He had been saving it from himself tonight, but he supposed he could part with it for now. _Here,_ he offered as he walked over to his partner.

Numbers looked from it to Wrench. _That thing is huge,_ he signed the obvious, unable to outright accept or thank his partner in equal parts pride and embarrassment. _And ugly as fuck._

Knowing Numbers would never take it, even if offered, Wrench shoved the thing into his arms, holding his own away when Numbers tried to give it back. _It’s the fucking warmest thing in the world. Just put it on, man._

Numbers conceded when he swore he could feel the room drop another degree. His fingers pulled the scarf off his throat and pulled the thing over his head. Just as Wrench figured, the thing bagged everywhere, swallowing the small hit man completely whole.

He couldn’t help the small snicker that left his mouth. _Wow, you’re so tiny._

Numbers shot a glare at Wrench. The taller hit man was pretty sure that glare alone rose the temperature in the room several degrees. Numbers snarled before raising his arms to sign a retort. When he lifted his hands up he realized the sleeves completely covered them and his face burned a little with embarrassment. He felt like some dude’s girlfriend who just stole their boyfriend’s hoodie. He even _noticed_ that it smelled like his partner.

But Wrench was right.

It was warm as hell. His neck felt a little hot even; though that was probably the shame.

The smaller man dropped his hands, averting his gaze from Wrench. The rude comment he was about to throw at his partner went unspoken. As Numbers pulled aggressively at the hem, Wrench took the moment to let his eyes wander and enjoy the sight of Numbers in his favorite sweater.

He never thought he’d get to see this. It suited him extremely well; too well. Just seeing Numbers in his clothes made him feel pleased, if a bit possessive. Wrench wished that he could just grab his partner’s wrists and pull him in for the world’s most satisfying kiss.

But he controlled himself.

 There was no doubt in his mind that Numbers liked Wrench more than he ever showed or wanted to admit. But until Numbers realized that for himself, Wrench had resigned to waiting patiently.

Sure he’d give him a little nudge here, a little push there, but Numbers would have to be the one to make the realization for himself. Wrench couldn’t and wouldn’t force his partner into anything, ever.

If Numbers never realized his own feelings, then Wrench would simply be grateful and honored to have had such a great and wonderful best friend and partner for the rest of his life.   


End file.
